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Exiles cannot share in such pleasures

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Exiles cannot share in such pleasures

They might have lost their hands or been mutilated in some other way. Instead, some of them were forcibly shaved and the rest condemned to exile. The emperor, as if to celebrate his narrow escape from danger, invited me to his private apartment and ordered me to dine at his table. But he had not finished the meal before he burst into tears. ‘Philosopher,’ he said, ‘what a pity our exiles cannot share in such pleasures! I cannot possibly enjoy myself like this when others are in distress!’

When an alliance had been concluded between the western Mysians**248 and the Triballi, and these two nations formed a united front, the Roman Empire found itself in a very serious position. At the first opportunity Constantine hurried off to fight them, but later, thanks to me — I snatched him from danger almost by main force — he returned to the palace. However, he did mobilize a small army and sent it off to oppose them. At this point God worked a wonder no less strange than the miracles performed by Moses, for the barbarians immediately took to their heels, terror-struck, scattering in all directions, and most of them were cut down by our men’s swords as they followed them in hot pursuit.

It was as if the enemy had seen a host of angelic beings. Their dead were left to the birds of prey, while the runaways dispersed all over the countryside. If I had proposed to write a panegyric, therefore, instead of a comprehensive history, in this marvel I would have found enough material for praise beyond all bounds. As it is, I must divert my enthusiasm to other matters.

Ineffable dispensation of God the Word

It would be possible for me to name emperors who rivalled, even equalled, Constantine in other things, but not where belief in God was concerned, or the mystery of the ineffable dispensation of God the Word. This latter, to Constantine, was more than anything else beyond conception: no words could possibly explain it, however simple, however clever.

Every time I tried to expound to him the Mystery enacted on our behalf, his heart would fill with joy, his whole body tremble in exultation, and the tears would stream from his eyes. He had made a study of Holy Writ in all its fullness, and his knowledge was not confined merely to the text, but extended to the deep spiritual ideas that underlie it. Whatever leisure from public duties he enjoyed was spent in the reading of the Sacred Books.

He took peculiar pleasure in my company. No one else had the same restful influence on him. If, therefore, I failed to present myself several times in a day, he would complain about it and fret. He respected me more than anyone else and ‘drank his fill of waters at my fount’: to him they were as nectar. I told him once that one of the citizens was dead.

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